Underground
by Echeziel
Summary: Sakura is a vampire who is paired with the infamous Hidan. They take orders from Pein and Konan, and are currently warring against rival gangs. Emotions run wild, as does murder and scandal. HidaSaku, slight GrimmSaku. AU
1. Of Trickery

Rain. It filled the alley like millions of tears, the gods crying for the city of dirt. The City of Death, filled to the brim with prostitutes and addicts, liars and thieves, the natural, normal "citizens" of society. And she was part of it; a single cell in a body of greed.

She sat there, bored, her pink hair stained a deep red from the rain. She was crouched in an alley, leaning back against the wall, so covered in grime that she didn't want to really think about it. The streetlamp on the sidewalk in the mouth of the alley was flickering, like in some cliché movie. She smiled at that, but didn't bother with it. Her too-green eyes flickered closed and she withdrew into herself, utterly still. Her senses were on full-alert, listening for the crunch of footsteps and the harsh sound of human breathing above the patter of rain. She listened for the beat of a heart and sniffed the air occasionally for the scent of something like dark chocolate; smooth and delicious, not coppery like it was supposed to be. Blood.

After a few hours, she sensed someone of about the right weight and size, judging from his footsteps and his breaths. Soaked through to the bone, she staggered upright, theatrically clutching herself as if wounded. She stumbled into the street, feigning terror.

Seeing him within reach, frozen in the human state of shock that struck for a few seconds, she lunged and clutched at his worn, brown leather jacket.

Quickly, her mind raced as she took in his appearance. He had slanted, warm brown eyes that spoke of a kind, honest character, and a strong jaw. His hair was shaggy and dark brown, appearing black as it was flattened against his skull by the rain.

"Help me" she whispered, pretending to be weak. "Please, sir" she said, trying her damndest to appear earnest.

"You're bleeding!" he exclaimed, in real shock as his hands wave around helplessly before they settled around her biceps, as if to keep her upright with his strength alone. 'I could rip you apart in a second' the dark side of her mind thought. She waved it away.

"Yes, I suppose I am" was her response as she coughed up blood, having pierced her tongue with an elongated canine for the desired effect.

"We've got to get you to a hospital!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide and concerned as he took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her like a real gentleman, amazed that she was on this side of the city in as little as a faded t-shirt and shorts. Such a tiny little thing she was; real pretty, with her emerald eyes that were almost inhuman in appearance and her dark red hair. She had pale skin like a porcelain doll, and a delicate bone structure like a fairy. He was so glad he'd been the first to find her instead of some gangbanger that he didn't notice her skin that was colder than normal. In the back of his mind, he just equated it with the weather.

He'd been on his way to his sister's friend's house for drinks as they watched the game, but he figured he'd understand that he was late. After all, he had to help women in need. It was how his mama raised him. Going to the hospital wasn't the best way to spend the night, but he figured it beat a few other things. Not many, granted, but a few.

'He's a good man' the girl thought as she leaned against him, still pretending to be weak and seeking warmth. And she was. She was so, so cold…had been for years. 'Not many would be such a martyr. He probably doesn't even expect anything in return'

He swooped and picked her up, arms coming around the back of her knees to cradle her against his chest, as if she were a bride. He acted as if she was a fragile, precious thing. Like she'd break if he were too rough. Really, it was the other way around.

He was a living, breathing, beautiful creature. He's God's creature, created by His loving hands out of dirt and clay. He would never live past this day, nor would he breathe again or laugh again or see his next birthday. His family would never again see his smiling face. They wouldn't even get a funeral or memorial to mourn. If he had a girlfriend or fiancée or wife, they'd have lost a good man; one in a million. His siblings and parents would have an essential member missing forever. They would have to move on, though, and continue living life, because this was how it worked.

He was one step too many down the food chain.

She nuzzled his neck, nostrils greedily inhaling the red scent of his chocolate blood. She felt herself shivering from need, her fangs elongated from hunger, her eyes dilated. Her tongue swiped over her teeth to try to shorten them again, to no avail. She was hungry, and her body was demanding that she give it sustenance. In a swift movement, she stood and yanked him back into the alley, bashing his head against the wall to knock him out.

Swooping in, she placed a kiss on his neck and licked it clean before her teeth pierced his skin, tanned from enjoyment of the sun. Aim perfect, she missed severing the jugular and instead grazed it, able to drink as much as she wanted. She fed and fed and fed, eyes becoming more feral as time went on.

They called her a monster; she was nothing but a creature, feeding off prey and struggling to survive in her environment. She was not natural, no, but she was certainly no monster.

The blood slid down her throat, caressing her senses like a lover. His blood was her life support, and she thanked him for it with all her shriveled heart. If not for his sacrifice, she would die. The consistency of his blood was thick and rich, and she shivered in delight, nerves on fire and breath quick. He was not stringy. Truly, a fine specimen and absolutely perfect for her meal.

He was out cold, so he didn't scream. He didn't struggle. Couldn't. She knew no one could have seen. Her senses were on full-alert, and no one was around for quite awhile. Empty.

She dropped him when he was dry and wiped her mouth. She stood above him, staring down at him and feeling just a sliver of remorse. She'd just killed a man. The second of that day. And she didn't really care.

Wasn't so helpless, then. Hadn't been for _years_. She never wanted to again.

Once, she'd been something innocent and pure. Like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. Happy and cheerful, with a brilliant, beaming smile and open face that expressed all her emotions. Her heart remained on her sleeve, and she hadn't cared. But people, in their cruelty, had taken advantage of her naïveté and beaten her and broken her, treating her like a toy, until one day her Master found her, during one of her many attempts to escape…and saved her.

She shook herself from her reminiscence and reminded herself that there was a job to do. She grabbed the drained body by the ratty Bob Dylan t-shirt he wore and lifted him easily with her unnatural strength. She didn't strain a bit as she heaved him onto her petite shoulder and strode down the alley to the dumpster, hidden in the back. She placed him in front of it and raked a clawed hand across his body several times with an animalistic savagery. She tore clothes and skin alike, and didn't really care, save for an absentminded annoyance that she'd have to clean beneath her nails.

She left him there to be found, if anyone bothered. It would look like a beast got to him. She took of his jacket and ripped it to shreds, a bit reluctantly. It was a nicely made jacket, after all. Very sturdy and rather rain-proof. She felt the leather tear and, once done, left that on top of him.

Turning, she began to walk back to headquarters, feeling sated and full. The rain didn't bother her; didn't seem to touch her. She seemed to glow, a broad smile upon her face. She wasn't really _happy_, just…warm, for once. The closest her kind could really get to it. So she was…content. She walked like a predator, graceful and feral and ready to rip out someone's neck.

And walk she did, until she heard the tell-tale 'whoosh' of sound behind her, imperceptible to human ears. She whirled around, once-expressive green eyes narrowed. She let out a low hiss when she noticed who it was.

He let out a slow clap, leaning casually against that damn flickering streetlight. Again with the clichés. "Nice show" he complimented with a leer. "Did you practice, princess?" he asked, his tone slightly nasty.

Her lip curled. "Shut it, Hidan" she growled, annoyed. Her mood was spoiled, thanks to him.

A single silver eyebrow rose, his piercing glinting in a menacing manner in the light that had just taken on a sinister appearance. "Oh, Sakura" he said, shaking his head. "He was such a nice man, too. Such a fucking _great_ man" he drawled, contempt soiling his last sentence.

"Yeah, he was, Hidan. So what?" Sakura snarled back, his presence already far under her skin. "Mad you weren't ever like that? Angry no one ever liked you, and still don't? That we stay away from you like the plague?" she spat.

Hidan loomed, a dark silhouette beneath the streetlamp. "You're going there, Princess, really? Low blow" he smirked, his gleaming violet eyes hiding an intense anger at the world. His black cloak shimmered with the red clouds. So he was on Underground business, if he was wearing the uniform, she thought.

"I don't need to deal with this" she said, rolling her eyes in lieu of a response as she turned on her heel to leave him there and continue on her way.

"Au contraire, mon petite ami" Hidan replied, appearing in front of her again. His French was truly horrific. "I've been sent to get you" he stated, a bit smugly.

"For what?" Sakura asked, a bit surprised. "Have Aizen's group made a move yet? Shuuhei mentioned that they were planning something" she said, brows furrowing in her concern as her attention was diverted from their little spat.

"Naw. Ukitake said the bastards were moving, yeah, but they haven't really done a fucking thing" he replied moodily, falling into step beside her. She wondered why he was in such a foul mood, but she said nothing of it. She changed the subject.

"So, do you think Grimmjow will take me up on my offer?" Sakura asked, deciding that if she had to put up with him, they could at least speak like somewhat-civilized people.

"What offer?" he asked, the two words coming out a bit harsh, but his interest was piqued, despite his soured mood.

She rolled her eyes. 'He's oblivious. People've been talking about it for days'. "My offer on the Makara mansion" she said, pausing for a moment to let that sink into his thick skull, then added, "He needs to help me. He's one of the best thieves in the group, and despite him being one of my last choices, because, hello, he's about as stealthy as a blue elephant, I've already asked Hitsugaya, Kimimaro, and Renji, and they've all got other things to do" she sighed.

They walked in silence for a moment, in which Sakura wondered what was taking him so long to come up with a response.

"You could have asked me!" he snapped, his jaw clenched. "What are you, obsessed with the guy?"

"What are _you_, jealous?" Sakura retorted, instantly on the defensive.

"I'm not!"

"_Right_" she replied sarcastically. After a pause, she tried a new subject. "So, a little bird told me Pein wants you as my new partner" she said, darkened pink eyebrows raised in incredulity at the mere idea of it.

"Yeah, he does" Hidan replied, not too pleased with the idea either. It's not that they didn't get along…it was just that…well, they didn't get along.

"You think he'll really make it official?" she asked, worrying her lip between her normal-sized teeth, if they were slightly sharper than normal.

Hidan just shrugged. "It's possible" was all he would say on the subject. The two stayed silent until they reached headquarters, and then went their separate ways.

* * *

Sakura's head hit her pillow, and she puffed out a breath of air that fogged the humid room. Her eyes slid closed, and before she would let herself sleep, she made herself do her daily ritual that had kept her sane in the beginning, and was now a comfort.

_Who am I?_

Sakura Haruno, vampire.

_What do I do?_

Survive, and try to shut down Aizen.

_Who do I work for?_

Yoruichi, Kisuke, Pein, and Konan.

_Who do I work with?_

Hidan, Deidara, and sometimes Rangiku.

_Who am I?_

Sakura Haruno, and I was once human.


	2. Of Hair and Heaps of Garbage

In the morning, Sakura awoke and found herself in the kitchen that all of the full vampires shared. She started to brew a new cup of coffee, her eyes still showing the lull of sleep. They had no real need to consume human drink or food, but most did, despite the fact that they didn't need it. It was for comfort, really, because most of them missed their human days that they can never return to.

She sat at the table and rested her head in her hands, yawning. The dawn light peeked through the windows, casting a soft light on everything. She'd always thought it funny, how the dawn made the City of Death appear so damn hopeful.

A few moments later, Ino walked in and paused when she noticed Sakura. "Saki?" she asked softly, coming to stand by her friend. "Are you…are you alright?" she asked, resting a hand on Sakura's slim shoulder.

Sakura let her hands fall and her eyes rose to take in her friend. "Yeah…why?" she asked.

"Your…your hair" Ino said, eyes wide as she gestured at her own blond locks.

Sakura stood and walked across the hall to the bathroom, looking in the mirror. She saw nothing different, and then froze. If you turned a certain angle, the hair was darker, almost black…it was a shimmery, mirage-like thing. "What the hell?" she said, incredulously.

"Saki, have you ever heard of the Black Root?" Ino asked, a bit hesitantly.

Sakura's emerald eyes darted up to meet her best friend's startled cerulean. "No" she said flatly.

Ino sighed, as if she'd expected her to say no, but had been hoping she'd say yes. "It's a myth that when vampires reach a certain - I don't know. Maturity? – that they change in a physical way, which is often blackness in their hair, starting at the roots. It's only visible to vampires, and…well, it means that you're…Saki, it means you're not just a normal vampire. You're royalty, like…well, like an Alpha werewolf-royalty, vampire-style" Ino said, eyebrows furrowing. "Did you ever wonder why Kisuke, Yoruichi, Pein, and Konan all have black streaks? That's cuz of the Black Roots. It means you're really, really strong" Ino said, shaking her head. "Just…just…you don't want people to find out, alright? Just say you dyed your hair" Ino said, her eyes worried.

Ino was a healing vampire, and very good at her job. She liked knowing the legends about the vampires, both human and real, and found many hilarious. She thought the fact that humans believed that garlic kept them away, that they couldn't see vampires in mirrors, and sunlight killed them was downright hilarious.

Sakura gave her an uncertain smile. "Okay?" she said, unsure. She grabbed a hair tie from inside the cabinet and tied her hair back, her bangs falling in her face. She smiled a tiny, only partially-fake smile at her friend, unsure of just about everything her friend had just told her. "There's coffee in the pot. I've…got to go" she said, dashing for the door and letting herself out to take a breather.

Ino often played jokes on Sakura, but she had the gut-feeling that this wasn't one. The black wasn't just a fashion statement. Damn. She could only hope the other vampires didn't know of the obscure legends that Ino enjoyed.

* * *

"Ew ew ew ew ew ew" Sakura chanted, wincing as her shoes made a disgusting slurping sound when they were lifted from the muck, wet from the heavy downpour that they had fallen victim to at the most inopportune time.

Hidan shrugged, not caring that his shoes were covered in garbage as he trudged through what could only be described as trash. You couldn't even tell what it was. "It's not so bad" he said, trying to be optimistic.

He was only treated to a glare for his pains.

"Bullshit, you fucker. You decided to come this way just to torture me" Sakura said, in quite a querulous way.

Hidan just grinned. "Maybe" he said, just a hint of deviousness thrown in for good measure.

Sakura flipped him the bird and continued on, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed to slits as she watched the ground, trying to step in areas not so gross.

Hidan was behind her, and very much glad that she wasn't looking at him, and therefore couldn't see his stare as she walked on. He wasn't checking her out, nope. He was…making sure she didn't kill herself, of course. Garbage is _very _dangerous stuff.

'SQUILCH!'

Sakura gagged, and covered her nose and mouth with her hand, trying to block the smell of the heap of garbage and whatever disgusting shit she'd just stepped in. "Holy shit holy shit" she said, fighting down her gag reflex. She _really _didn't want to barf and make this worse.

"Why are we here, Hidan?" she whined, miserable and wet and covered in whatever the fuck this was.

"To spy on Aizen" Hidan replied easily, avoiding what looked like a stack of baby diapers and instead deciding that it would be easier to climb over the pile of broken bikes. Really, this was a sea of trash. He could see why Sakura loathed it, but he'd been in worse, back when he was human and in the military…he shivered as he remembered theshit they'd made him do.

"Why are we walking through garbage, though?" Sakura asked in a petulant tone.

"There's a vent we can access at the end of this alley where we can eavesdrop and hear everything" Hidan recited Pein's lengthy "briefing", paraphrasing a lot. "It's disgusting, but it's the closest we can get without being seen" he said, taking the lead and wading further into the mountain of disposed waste.

Instead of a response, a 'SPLAT!' reached his ears, so he turned to spy Sakura face-first in the muck, pink-and-black hair splayed out. She dragged herself up, gagging and clearly fighting off blowing chunks. "Oh, they won't see us" she said slowly, clearly seething in anger, "they'll _smell us_" she growled, ready to rip someone, anyone, to tiny little shreds.


	3. Author's Plea For Help

Hey. Me here.

I'm taking this account off hiatus and I'm getting back into the swing of things. One issue:

I don't know what I want to happen in each of my stories, because all of my notes were thrown in the trash when I gave up on writing a long time ago. But, I'm back now.

So. Here's the deal.

I've rewritten the first two chapters of this story, so feel free to reread and notice the changes, and here's what I want you to do, if you'd be so kind.

Leave me a review, stating what you think you want to happen in the story, and tell me what you want to see. I'll think of something, but I want to know what the readers want. Don't give up on me, guys. I'm back, and better than ever.


	4. Of a Warlock's Shop

"Welcome, how can I help you?" a bland, unemotional tone said as the bell above the shop door chimed when the newest customers strode in.

The co-owner of the shop didn't look up from what he was crafting, carefully hidden behind a desk that served as the checkout counter. His rust-colored hair shaded his eyes and covered most of his downward-facing features, and the glint of a knife hinted at either woodcarving…or skincarving.

After a few moments of silence, he looked up out of annoyed courtesy, his strange, strange silver-honey eyes glinting in the dim lighting of the weapons shop. His expression never changed as he took them in, though he placed the carving knife and the wooden limb down on the counter and stood. "Oh. It's you" he said in a flat tone, irritation lacing the edge of his words oh-so-delicately. "What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

"We need to speak to Zetsu, and we can't find him" she replied, her tone icy as she glared at him, her emerald eyes like chipped shards of sea glass filled with malice.

"Sounds like a problem" he replied, his childish face cocked to the side, tone and eyes and features flat and uncaring, no real emotion behind it.

"We know you can find him, Sasori" Sakura said darkly, her already-waning patience tearing thin.

"I could, but why would I want to do that?" he asked, something flickering in his eyes, but it was gone before she could place it. Whatever it was, it probably hadn't been anything more than a slight annoyance at being pestered.

Her partner stepped out of the shadows, tall, muscular form blending with the dark more than was natural. "It would be in your best interests, Red" he said in his low, growling voice.

Sasori's jaw moved, clenching ever-so-slightly, imperceptible to anyone without enhanced eyesight. Apparently, he didn't care much for the nickname. "Really?" he asked, crossing his arms. "Now, I'm not exactly convinced of that." he said in an offhanded tone, a sort of subliminal question slipped in behind as only a few like him could do. _What do you have to offer?_

With a short-tempered snarl, Sakura's partner stepped directly into the harsh, stark white little circle of white light surrounding the counter. "You won't find yourself dead, for one" he hissed, his thickly-corded arms, slamming down threateningly on the old wooden desk, that creaked in protest.

Sasori's eyes narrowed to angry slits. "Please, _Grimmjow_, don't flatter yourself. You don't possess the _ability_ and _skill _that it takes to kill me" Sasori said, unrelenting, and saying the other man's name like it was a vulgar word of its own.

Resting a pale hand on her partner's tanned arm, Sakura spoke in a low tone that left no room for argument. "He might or might not," she said, in a half-hearted attempt to appease both men, "but I _do_, and both you and I know it" she said, pink eyebrow elegantly raised. "Speak, Sasori" she commanded, her eyes blazing with hatred and she was eagerly _waiting _for the opportunity to kill the red-haired bastard.

Sasori was silent for a few moments, wavering on the 'too-long' mark before he spoke, smirk in his voice as he tried to cover up his resignation. "The last thing I heard from him was about a week ago; he wanted a fairly large shipment of poison sent to him. I can give you the address, for a price" Sasori said, his tone taking on a 'reasonable' resonance.

Grimmjow visibly tensed, but Sakura ignored him and drew a small crimson bag from her pocket and set it on the table delicately. Grimmjow shot her a confused look when it gave no 'clink' to indicate that it was money, but a 'tink' that seemed to be glass. Sakura just shrugged. "You know what's in there" she said, eyes firmly fixated on Sasori, whose own eyes were drawn to the bag like it was the answer to life itself. Sakura's hand cupped it on the table, concealing it from his vision, though that did not deter him from worshipping it with his eyes. "You can have these, if you give us his location" she said, her fingers clenching around the bag, as if to show that she'd crush it if she disobeyed.

Sasori's eyes widened a fraction, and hurriedly, he scribbled down an address on a napkin and thrust it at her, then waited impatiently for her to leave so that he could get at the contents of the bag.

Smiling a smile that was clearly a thinly-veiled threat, Sakura waved as they stalked towards the entrance, and steps away from the door, Sakura turned her head. "Oh, and Sasori?" she asked in a sweet voice. Sweetness trying to cover venom.

Sasori barely glanced up, already carefully pulling the bag to him. She'd heard the miniscule grunt of acknowledgement, though. "If you're lying, you're dead" she promised.

* * *

Not even ten feet from the door, Grimmjow whirled around and loomed over her, snarling. He was ready to unleash his anger now, because he sure as hell knew better than to do it when in front of someone who was a pawn in the game. "What the hell was that?" he snarled, his blue eyes set on fire with his rage.

Oh, boy, did those blue eyes shine. They were the same color as his spiked hair, which was the color of clear ocean water in the morning, just before the sun's rays reach much more than dawn. With his 6'4" frame and thick muscles and scars, as well as his angular jaw and slanted, panther eyes, he was a huge force of destruction, ready to be unleashed at any moment. He'd be a miniature disaster.

"What was what, Grimmjow?" Sakura asked coolly, trying to ignore how he was not agitating her and making her lose her calm.

"Undermining me in front of _Sasori_! And what the hell was even in that bag?" he roared, almost spitting rage. She really didn't understand how he let such small matters get under his skin so easily.

Sakura let out a tiny sigh. "It was a poison. I just recently developed it, not even a month ago, and no one's been able to find a cure for it. Sasori's been eager to get his nasty paws on some of it since he's heard about it, but it's not for sale" she said, her own temper flaring as she imagined the warlock's grimy mitts smearing all over her newest creation.

"Poison" Grimmjow said, anger forgotten in the face of befuddlement. "Poison" he repeated, lagging behind her as she crossed the street, not bothering to look both ways. The closest cars within a mile were all parked, and outside her one-mile-radius, she didn't much care.

"Yes, poison"

"Why, though. What's so great about it?" he asked, a bit dumbly. He could understand combat, all forms of it, but poison had always seemed like the cheater's way to go.

Sakura took a moment to think over an answer. "It's…the plants it takes to make it are very rare, and it takes a long time to brew. Aside from that, there is _no cure _for it and it takes two weeks to kill, during which time the victim has hallucinations and believes all around him to be enemies" she said. "It's very affective. Six drops and you're done for" she said. Any less, and the effects would be horrendous for awhile, but you'd live, if being weak the rest of your life counted as 'living'. She worked with scientists, and they'd tested on all sorts of animals, and one human. Or two.

Grimmjow's brows furrowed together. "That's low" was all he said as he contemplated this. They walked silently for a moment, before he mentioned something about needing to feed. Shrugging it off, Sakura bid her partner adieu and took her leave, continuing on to headquarters and ready to turn in, once she'd repeated all of the encounter with the warlock to Pein, paraphrasing most of it.

Thinking of her 'leader' (that title really only belonged to Yoruichi, according to Sakura), she was led to think of the address, and she pulled it out of her pocket, even her enhanced sight barely able to unscramble the spidery writing. Short and to the point, just like Sasori.

_674 Yami Dr_

A dark grin made its way onto Sakura's face. _There_ was the little fucking informant. Couldn't hide from the Underground, could you?

Once you're in, you're never really out.

* * *

**O-kay. Fourth chapter of Underground is out. I was told people want Sakura/Grimmjow, so here's some, if not very romantic. Meaning, really, at all.**

**Tell me what you think in a review. I want to know what YOU want to happen, people. It'll be in here, somehow, I can almost guarantee it.**

**Another note: I'm leaving the previous chapter-author's-note in, just...because? It'll probably eventually be removed.  
**


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